Nightfall.  Darkness.  Grim.  Evil.

These seem to be the few things that slip into my mind constantly.  It was 1:05 AM and I stood on a doormat of a house I never seen before. I pull out a piece of paper and compare the written numbers to the numbers near the door.  “674“.  This seems to be the right place.  I knock on the door three times gently to see if I would attract any flies like a venus flytrap.  After no response for a minute, I decided to take action to my own hands.  I whipped out my utility tools and picked out a lockpick.  Gently, I placed it into the lock and twisted to attempt to find a way to open the door.  After a minute of fiddling, the lock seemed to retract.  I placed my right hand on the door handle and softly turned it towards me.  After hearing another click, I push the door away from me and silently crept toward the room.  It appeared that I was within the kitchen as there were pots and pans hanging from the ceiling and a table was placed near the counter.  I look over toward the counter and find a knife within a stand.  Roughly about eight inches in length, it was the perfect blade for the job.  I slowly crept forward, entering the living room.

As I entered the living room, a television was left on; glowing onto the man in front of the television on the couch.  The man seemed to snore louder than the television, which made the entire situation a bit awkward.  I dig through my trenchcoat carefully to find a bottle and a rag from my pockets.  I gently open up the bottle and dabbed some of the contents on the rag.  After placing the bottle back into my pocket, I make my move.  I softly creep toward the individual on the couch and gently nudge him.  After snoring a bit louder, the man groaned and turned toward me.  Since he didn’t seem completely conscious, I attempt to take advantage of his dulled mind to find my answers.

“Hello sir,” I greeted softly,  “I was just passing by to ask you a question.”

“Ugh,” the man groaned again, “what do you want from me at this late at night?”

“I’ve heard that there are people after your money.  If you had to store it anywhere, where would it be?”

“...Money?  Where to store it?  What do you take me as, a buffoon?”  The man finally stood up, completely awake.  After he started to move toward me, I pulled the knife out into my right hand while keeping the rag hidden in my left pocket.

“I think fucking around with me will just get you killed,” I hastily replied, “so it’s best that you just cooperate and give me the damn money.  Unless you want to become the next victim on my list.”

“Alright alright!” the man yelled, “just don’t wave that stupid blade around anymore!”

The man seemed to lead me toward the basement of his house.  He flipped a switch on and slowly approached to a wall.  The odd thing was the basement never seemed to be used, as it was as barren as the desert.  The man approached what appeared to be a dead end that was directly from the stairs.  He pulled his hand out and placed it on one of the bricks.  To my surprise, the brick made a noise and a laser appeared to scan his hand.  After what appeared to be the brick verifying the man, the wall opened up to another room; this time full of many things.  For starters, jewelry and gold surrounded the entire area.  Within the middle of the path was a desk and a safe directly behind it.

“Take whatever you want,” the man muttered, “just spare my life.”

“You know,” I said, “it’s a bit funny.  For some reason, you don’t seem paranoid about this at all.  Most people I know would still be freaking out the entire time and I’d have to nearly force them with the tip of a blade to make them do something since they’re paralyzed with fear.”

“This isn’t the first time I’ve been threatened with my life for money,” the man replied.  “After all, for someone as rich as me I’m surprised at the few attempts for my life in exchange for wealth.”

“While it’s a touching story,” I added, “I’m afraid the jewelry is not what I seek.  What’s inside that safe, on the other hand, is likely what I would like to have.  Nothing I hate more than taking another step just to make money.”

The man approached the safe and spun the dial toward three numbers.  After setting the dial to the third number, he pulled the hatch and revealed the contents within the safe.  Enclosed was the color green.  It seemed that there was thousands, no, millions of dollars.

“Since I don’t exactly have clean money,” the man stated, “I can’t store this in my Switzerland bank account.  To accommodate for that, I built this under my house to store my riches.  Thankfully most ‘respectful’ thieves just take the jewelry and run off with it.”

“When is a thief ever close to ‘respectful’?” I replied.  “If anything, your statement is almost ironic considering there’s almost no such thing as a present day Robin Hood.  Now just hang tight while I place the money in this bag.”

I pull out a large gym bag and place it onto the floor.  Carefully, I sweep the piles of green into the bag.  It seemed that the air smelled fresh and crisp like a brand new dollar bill.  The sensation seemed to drive me insane, and I stuffed the bag further.  After reaching what seemed to be the limit of the bag, I zipped it up and placed it upright to wheel it after the situation was finished.

“Unfortunately,” the man said with a twisted smile, “no thief has walked out of this house alive.”  Suddenly, he attempted to pull a gun out of his pocket and attempted to lay fire on me.  Quickly, I grabbed the cloth and ran around him to be directly behind him.  I place my arms around his and hold his trigger hand upward to prevent him from firing at me.  Quickly, I placed the piece of cloth toward his mouth and covered it.  The victim seemed to struggle as much as he could, but after thirty seconds the chemicals seemed to kick in and the victim collapsed.  Since the kitchen knife provided too much evidence, I decided to take the gun and directly aim it at his head.  I pull the trigger just enough so the pistol would fire, and the bullet lodged through his head onto the ground.  Blood splattered everywhere, but thankfully none was placed anywhere on me.  I placed the gun next to him, grabbed the gym bag, and walked away from the scene.  I walked up the steps, placed the kitchen knife back in its rightful place, and closed the door behind me.  I ran from the house back to my car and dragged the bag full of money right behind me.  I unlocked my ‘02 Pontiac Sunfire and place the money right in the trunk.  I got into my car and started it up, driving toward my house.  After reaching my destination, I got out of the car to grab some shut eye.  Slowly, I walked toward my house recollecting all the things that happened tonight.  It was weird enough that the man never reacted against me until the last minute during the robbery, but he also mentioned that the money wasn’t clean.  Furthermore, what would a rural man such as him do with so much money without few people noticing it in the process?  So many questions seemed to spiral my mind, but the late night seemed to settle into my eyes as I felt more drowsy at each step.  I approached my door and pulled out my keys.  Placing them in the lock, I turn it towards me to unlock and turn the doorknob.  I take off my gear and set it in the chest next to the door and padlock it.  After sealing it, I slid the chest back into its groove and covered it with the fake wall, then the table.  I crept toward my bed like a lifeless zombie, got under the covers, and closed my eyes.

I did it, I thought.  I just murdered another innocent man just to get money.  I only hope my mother never finds out about the terrible deeds I’ve done over the past few years.  I shed a tear through my eye as I finally fell asleep in the silent night.